C4's Space Cadets at this extremely early stage of the world's most wicked game show, practically nothing (not even disappointing first-night ratings of 2.6 million, resoundingly trounced by ITV1's 7.1m for the I'm A Celebrity ... catch-up show) can persuade me that it is anything other than a once-in-a-lifetime format of awesome brilliance created by a cabal of evil TV geniuses who, in almost equal measures, deserve to be garlanded with giant Christmas bonuses even as they are handed their P45s.
Though, of course, having ratcheted-up the reality-cruelty quotient to new and hitherto unforeseen levels of potential misery, it may also be the show that brings the reality genre to its knees. Indeed, so horribly and brilliantly exploitative is the premise behind the show - persuading nine 'suggestible' (ie gullible and credulous) and 'creative' (but not so creative they're ever likely to be nominated for the Turner) types that they are in Russia being trained for a shuttle mission into near-space, when in fact they will be going nowhere further than Suffolk - that I don't think we can quite imagine the potential fallout when the complex hoax currently being perpetrated for our viewing entertainment is eventually revealed.
Indeed, Endemol (for it is the work of the Big Brothers of Reality telly) might want to be careful trying to sell this humiliating format. Indeed, given the power of the interwebnet-thingy, it might be unsaleable even now, particularly to America, where you couldn't rule out the possibility of an angry contestant making a swift post-show trip to Uzis-R-Us for the purposes of some ratings grabbing revenge.
Whereas Big Brother contestants know that looking like an idiot on the telly is part of the journey towards your very own cover of Heat, the wide-eyed Space Cadets believe they are 'the very first televised British space tourists', as Johnny Vaughan informed the final 12 just before they boarded a plane at Biggin Hill and were flown around the North Sea for four hours before landing in 'Russia' or a disused air base near Ipswich.
If he comes into contact with the cadets again, Vaughan will have to work a bit at quenching his innate smirkability. While announcing to the cadets that they would be embarking on a Buzz Lightyear-style trip to the planet Delusion (OK, he didn't say that), Vaughan let slip a stray smile which, had the crew been slightly less 'suggestible' and 'creative', might have undone all the good work there and then. This fleeting smirklet said, in effect, 'ner-ner ner-ner-NEEER!', though blink and you would have missed it.
Meanwhile, Space Cadets' USP is the fact that the contestants are, thus far, one of the least interesting aspects of the project. For example, throughout Thursday night's show I was completely distracted by the enormous lengths the production team have to go to in order to ensure this illusion remains convincing, while in case it all goes Challenger-shaped, metaphorically-speaking, Vaughan is ever-ready with the get-outs: 'If by some miracle this enterprise manages to hoodwink ...'.
One thinks smugly to oneself: well, if I were there I would question the lack of snow ... (surely for even the dimmest cadet Russia+Winter=Snow?), or marvel at the implausibly stagy kitsch of the Lenin coffee mugs, or the presence of the fictitious (and stuffed) 'Minsky ... the first Russian monkey to return from space', or wonder why a space-base had so many signs Blu Tacked to walls, rather than screwed, and why there were too many pointless bits of rusty equipment in glass cases, and tanks, but no rockets? And why those uniformed men patrol perimeters with Rottweilers, like something out of a Cold War Bond movie ...? But I guess I'm flattering myself - according to Space Cadet Steve, one of the three actor-plants: 'It blew me away. It all looked so plausible. It's fantastic!'
Still, I really might have wondered why the British mission commander had the most implausible CV in military history, allegedly jumping straight from RAF squadron-leading to a post at the 'Space Tourism Agency of Russia eight years ago'. And why, having been at 'STAR' that long, he was reading his welcoming speech from notes, while avoiding any eye-contact.
In fact, I was in the middle of wondering if the poor actor playing the mission commander might, in fact, bring down the whole delicate house of cardskis by being insufficiently Right Stuffish, when my fears were allayed by Space Cadet Charlie, another actor, who started asking tricky questions during a lecture, thus forcing the commander to improvise with the brilliant: 'Pluto is about to be declassified as a planet.'
Later, in the video diary room, Right-Charlie apologised: 'I forgot that it wasn't real for a moment. I think I thought I was a trainee astronaut ...' which must have had the Endemol and C4 evil geniuses cackling with hysterical glee. When your employees start falling for the con there is every chance of Carrying On Convincing the unsuspecting cadets, even when it comes to deploying that balsa-wood shuttle and some IMAX-ed inner-space.
Obviously, I hope they do, and that come Friday, when all is revealed, handing out a few cheques for 25 grand will stave off a punch-up. Were I one of the cadets I might be just a teensy bit annoyed with, say, the person who has the job of bringing everybody down to earth without too much of a bump. I just hope Vaughan's insurance covers it.
observer
It was funny, I nearly choked on my tea!
